


girlfriends anonymous

by fated_addiction



Series: history lessons [2]
Category: K-pop, Korean Actor RPF, Mamamoo, Real Person Fiction, SM Entertainment | SMTown, So Nyuh Shi Dae | Girls' Generation, 소녀시대 | Girls' Generation | SNSD
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Police, F/F, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-09
Updated: 2016-10-09
Packaged: 2018-08-20 08:07:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8242333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fated_addiction/pseuds/fated_addiction
Summary: Taeyeon hears the sirens first.

She will be the first to admit her faults - Kim Taeyeon is as self-deprecating as they come.





	

**Author's Note:**

> As always, dedicated to K - because she's lovely and supportive and all of the above.

-

 

 

 

Taeyeon hears the sirens first.

They wail not shriek. The closer they come, the more the sound crawls into her head. It starts to climb into her spine and next to her, Wheein is muttering underneath her breath, her hands shaking but pressed firmly over Moonbyul’s wound.

“Byul-ah,” Wheein says. A long, large shudder trembles through her body. Taeyeon has the presence of mind to turn and gently adjust Moonbyul’s head over her knees, watching them both. “ _Byul-ah_ ,” Wheein murmurs, and then she laughs, just laughs, the sound sharp. “If you didn’t want to come to the concert, you should have just said so – I would have had takeout with you in a heartbeat.”

There is blood on her hands. It sputters out – _slowly_ , or maybe it’s just Taeyeon and her brain processing the first time she’s seen blood this way. Her hands start to smooth through Moonbyul’s hair, her fingers smoothing the strands back. Moonbyul’s head rolls back and Wheein is muttering again, leaving to watch, with horrified fascination as her eyes jerk open and then close.

“No, no, no, no, _no_ –”

The truth is Taeyeon will never remember the difference between the ambulance sirens or Wheein’s scream.

 

 

 

 

 

The first real dinner they have together, Moonbyul steals the green onions off her plate, one by one, and then just goes with it, dumping it into her stew.

“Hope you don’t mind,” she grins, and if anything, Taeyeon finds her weirdly hilarious. She grins a little, hiding her smiling behind her beer. “It doesn’t taste right without them,” Moonbyul adds unapologetically.

“Did you need more?”

Moonbyul laughs. “Nah. I have to be in interrogation later.” She points her fork at Taeyeon. “You, however, need to eat. You need to stop hiding in your songwriting lair of darkness, eonni. See the sunlight every once in awhile. Feel the breeze, seize the day –whatever you need to do to get some color in your face.”

Taeyeon flushes and smiles. Later, she’ll tell Moonbyul to just call her Taeyeon, _just Taeyeon_ because formalities make her feel weird and old and at this point, the other woman has seen her drunk and drunk in her underwear, so it really doesn’t matter anymore as far as she is concerned. She does find Moonbyul fascinating though.

It’s a little strange, watching someone else who keeps the same hours as she does, but in a completely different context. She knows nothing beyond the little slips Moonbyul has about her job like, “I’ll be in interrogation!” or those night, if anything, that she comes home late and looks disheartened, exhausted by humanity in away that Taeyeon can’t even begin to understand. The first thing Moonbyul ever said to her too, over beer and with serious expression she hasn’t seen since, was, “I refuse to bring work anywhere – except to work. So don’t worry about that.” Not that she would. Or was.

“Only if there’s beer,” she says lightly, and Moonbyul laughs.

This is the fundamental basis of their friendship, of course.

 

 

 

 

 

The hospital explodes into existence once the EMT throws the back door of the ambulance open.

“Female officer, gunshot wound –” he sites to a doctor, and Wheein wraps her hand around the sleeve of Taeyeon’s jacket. Her fingers are cold and slippery. Taeyeon cannot find her feet and stares down, watching blood transfer against her palm.

“Are you family?” 

Taeyeon blinks. Her mouth opens.

“Are you _family_?” A doctor asks again and impatiently enough for the EMT to step in, dragging them to follow as they wheel Moonbyul inside the emergency. She listens to the words _they were with her_ and someone says something about more cops being on their way to the hospital too.

Her brain cannot handle walking into the hospital. Everything is too bright. Someone is yelling across the room. Two nurses are gripping a man that falls to his knees in a loud, awful scream that makes Wheein shove her hand into hers and shut her eyes tightly. It’s the blind leading the blind. Taeyeon doesn’t know how to help her, wide-eyed and losing sight of where they’re going to take Moonbyul.

Panic is starting to bubble into her throat. She feels dizzy. She has never been good in these situations. She’s too transparent. Too awkward. But everything around her is cruelly overwhelming; the lights get brighter, warming her face and her hands and the sound of Wheein panting through her sobs next to her. A nurse materializes in front of them and starts asking question, but Taeyeon is losing her grasp on her brain, staring at the other woman. 

“I need some information,” she says gently. Her hand goes to Taeyeon’s arm. “Anything that you can think of – anything will be helpful.”

“I –” Her fingers tighten in Wheein’s hand. They’re trembling too. “I don’t know,” she manages. “I’m sorry… I don’t know anything about emergency contacts or family members. I know she has siblings but she barely talks about them. She’s really private and I’m sorry I’m speaking too fast because when I get nervous, I speak too fast and is she going to be okay?” Her eyes are burning. They blur. Her skin is starting to crawl. She’s losing awareness. “I just –”

“I can help with that.”

There is no right way to tackle how Jessica’s voice comes out of nowhere, strong, steady, and a surreal beacon of _presence_ that Taeyeon does not know how to understand. It feels like Jessica just grazed by them. She looks up, wide-eyed. 

“I’m the emergency contact,” she tells the nurse gently, taking the file and scribbling a few things over it. Her hair is pulled back into a bun, a few wisps falling into her eyes. There is blood on her scrubs and Taeyeon doesn’t understand how she seems completely unaware of it. “I’m heading into surgery,” she says to the nurse too. “If you could go and grab some spare scrubs for these two – the police are going to want to take their clothes as a precaution too.”

Taeyeon opens her mouth. “But –”

Jessica smiles a little. “Yah Kim Taeyeon.” She steps into her space, reaches in, and tucks some hair behind her ear. “No one is telling you that this is your fault,” she murmurs. She turns her gaze to Wheein, softening too. “You need to change out of your clothes, get some water and some coffee. The nurse is going to take you to my office. It’s quiet and you can wait there.”

The nurse takes charge then, reaching for Wheein first and untangling her from Taeyeon’s side. The other woman unravels like a doll, latching onto the nurse with shaking hands as she’s led forward.

“I’ll keep you updated.”

Taeyeon whirls around. Jessica is further, her hands sliding into a pair of gloves. Then another pair goes on after that. 

“Okay,” she says dumbly, swallowing, and her brain begins to open into the rest of the hospital. There is a set of double doors, a sign that is unreadable but red. She doesn’t understand how this is something that is happening.

But for the first time in ten years, Jessica turns to her and smiles, really smiles. Her mouth is firm and it travels back into her eyes. Taeyeon listens to the nurse come back for her, her hand on her arm.

Her feet remain planted. “Sooyeon-ah.”

Jessica is turning, halfway into walking. She stops, looking over her shoulder.

“I trust you,” Taeyeon says and the words lump together in her throat, pulling themselves to rest against the roof of her mouth and then under her tongue. Jessica’s expression changes into something she does not understand.

She doesn’t say anything though. Taeyeon watches Jessica turn back and run towards the room, the nurse pulling her back in the opposite direction.

This is how it is supposed to go.

 

 

 

 

 

The surgery goes into hour four.

Jessica’s office is completely and unapologetically _Jessica_. It’s so strange; her brain hides from the memories, helping Wheein sit and shoving tea, not coffee into her hands because one of them needs to sleep.

They have talked to the cops twice. Outside the office, there are a ridiculous amount of people that Taeyeon has never once met including Moonbyul’s partner, Minho, who grimly introduced himself to her and said something like _we take care of our own_ like she was supposed to understand it. The reality though was that it was more directed towards Wheein, who seems further in danger of retreating into herself; there is too much of Taeyeon that understands why Moonbyul never talked about work.

“How long did you date?”

Taeyeon blinks. She’s positioned herself against Jessica’s desk, trying not to stare at picture of Jessica and Soojung, her sister, who operates in the same circles as she does. They barely acknowledge each other; Soojung is always dangerously loyal and that is something that Taeyeon has never forgotten.

“Through high school,” she murmurs. She barely has enough energy to avoid the question. “She went to the US for university.” Taeyeon rubs her eyes. “I asked her to chose between me and school – I can’t even remember now. It was stupid and the fight that we had was pretty awful.”

Wheein snorts, looking up. The dark circles under her eyes are heavy. “Sounds like you.”

“It does,” Taeyeon agrees.

“She’s the one though,” Wheein continues, her voice softening. “In all of your songs – the one you never told me about. I saw the way you looked at her the other day… and the way that she looked at you.”

At some point, Taeyeon’s brain tells her _she is just trying to cope_ but there is something infinitely precious about talking and talking _about_ Jessica. Be transparent, an old mentor said to her once. It’s the golden rule of songwriting. Her mouth opens and closes. Then it opens again because she doesn’t know what else to do.

“I don’t even know how to go there.” She swallows, pushing away from the desk. The scrubs she is wearing are too big. One shoulder is starting to loop down her arm. “It was a long time ago and it’s a little different now…” The laugh that comes out of her mouth is harsh and Taeyeon feels her hands begin to shake. “You know how I am,” she says to Wheein, her mouth twisting. “I can do everything else adulthood requires of me, but when it comes to… stuff? Stuff. I just –” She’s made her way to the door, her fingers curling around the knob.

It goes unsaid: _I run away_.

“Do you want something to eat?” she asks instead, opening the door to the hallway. There is low conversation just by the door. Taeyeon recognizes Minho’s voice now. There is another woman. Sooyoung, she thinks. Or tries to remember.

Wheein shakes her head. Her mouth opens to a sigh.

“Sure,” Wheein manages, and Taeyeon runs away. She needs the air, she tells herself.

 

 

 

 

 

The cafeteria is empty.

By the time she starts drinking coffee, it’s cold and churns in her stomach. She misses the opportunity to get food; the workers erect the _fifteen minute break_ sign and all she manages to do is move from one table to a table closer to the window. She could go back upstairs, but the idea of going back to Jessica’s office, sitting there and waiting and watching Wheein crumble more, it haunts her. _You’re better than this_ , she tells herself, trying to be strong. Instead a self-deprecating smile pushes itself onto her mouth; this makes more sense. 

Taeyeon has already made the appropriate calls. _A family emergency_ , she tells her company. The venue representative said something about seeing it on the news; it goes easier than she thought it would. It’s more terrifying to have no out.

Her fingers are restless too. Her muscle memory is dividing into coping habits. There’s no pen. There’s no computer. The safety of her studio lives on the other side of the city. She can’t go home. She’s not that cruel and there is something about the idea of that silence, knowing that she is alone and that the space isn’t just hers that seems even more awful than everything else.

“There you are.”

Taeyeon looks up. Jessica pulls back the chair in front of her, taking the spot across the table without asking. Her scrubs look new. Her hair is loose now and she is holding a cup of coffee too.

“I checked in with Wheein,” Jessica tells her. “She said you needed some air.” Her mouth curls and she pushes the coffee cup across the table, picking up Taeyeon’s. “The cafeteria’s not the place to do it. This is the time of day where it start to smell funny.” It sounds like a joke, but Jessica remains serious. She rubs the back of her neck. “There are gardens upstairs.”

Taeyeon shrugs. “I don’t know my way around here. It seemed like the most logical thing to do – I was going to bring something back for Wheein.”

“She’s sweet.”

“We didn’t last,” Taeyeon says quickly and Jessica laughs sharply, the corners of her mouth digging back with amusement. “I mean –” Taeyeon feels her face flush. She groans, rubbing her face. “We work better _at_ work. It was a surprisingly adult decision that I made. That we _both_ made.”

“I’m not judging.” Jessica leans into the table, resting her chin on her hand.

“Sorry.”

Jessica shrugs, amused. “All I said was that she’s cute. I get why Byul is falling all over herself. She never gets like this with anyone ever.”

“I can relate,” Taeyeon mutters. Her eyes widen and she flushes. “I mean –”

“You’re fine.” Jessica remains even. “I promise.”

Taeyeon looks away. Her mouth twitches. “I don’t know how you do this,” she says quietly and it’s something she’s been holding in since they saw each other the first time, that night at the restaurant. “I can barely breathe in here. I’m terrified that I’m going to do something stupid or say something stupid or not know where to put my hands because everything is just –”

“Hospitals are intimidating.” Jessica reaches forward, taking one of her hands. It seems practiced; Taeyeon doesn’t care. Her fingers are warm against Taeyeon’s palms. She watches Jessica, wide-eyed. “You need to breathe,” Jessica murmurs too. “You need to let yourself understand that you just went through a trauma and that reacting is okay. I said the same thing to Wheein too.” She pauses, sighing. “The best thing you can do for Byul,” she murmurs, “is be here in the way that you can – ultimately it’s the only thing you can do.”

Taeyeon feels her eyes start to burn. “Has this happened before?” she croaks.

Jessica is quiet.

“She’s been shot _before_. Of course, she has. That’s a stupid question. I don’t know why I asked you that – _you’re_ the emergency contact.” Taeyeon looks away and the tears just start happening. Her hand covers her mouth and this sound, this strange, terrible _sound_ just comes out of her mouth as she closes her eyes. “I don’t understand how she does this, how you see this every day, how any of this is _happening_ –”

Her breakdown happens like this: her sobs feel like wails, they hit her shoulders into shudders, heavy and painful as she kicks her chair back and folds over into her own lap. She barely hears Jessica’s chair move and suddenly, there are hands in her hair and fingers smoothing back as Jessica’s mouth moves to her ear and all she hears is _you’re okay you’re okay_ when they both know that those words are completely and utterly misplaced this way. She wants to hit her, claw at her, pull her down and shake her because everything that keeps her together is falling apart. In the back of her mind, the small ounce of rationality says _it’s jessica_ but it falls and fades and she forgets as soon as Jessica’s mouth touches her forehead.

“You did the best you could.” 

She just doesn’t know what else to do. It’s an odd way for the memories to come back too; there’s Jessica, here and in front of her, murmuring words that she doesn’t need to hear because they just feel good. Her fingers move to her face and then over her jaw as Taeyeon lifts her head and remembers how much she used to resent Jessica for picking _life_ over them, over the two of them when it was Taeyeon that used to say things like _this is forever_. Could she handle this? It’s too much, trying to grab at pieces of the past and present, wondering where they go and if she just should let them fall to the wayside. She feels ugly and awful. It’s why this all so painful, knowing that Wheein is sitting alone in the office, wondering what there’s left to say and that there’s Moonbyul who, if anything, is more like Taeyeon than she knows.

“She… she just needs to wake up,” Jessica murmurs and without warning, Taeyeon leans in and kisses her, her eyes open.

Her ears start to ring. Her vision shakes. Jessica sighs. Taeyeon feels her teeth sink into her lip. It’s brief, bitter from the coffee, but Jessica’s mouth is warmer than she ever remembered, wet as she sighs and gently reaches up, pulling herself back. She tries to will herself to say something. Apologize. Blame her nerves and how all of this has basically unraveled her. _Not like this_ , her brain says. Her mouth is sore and hot.

Taeyeon swallows. “The surgery was successful?”

Jessica nods, hums, and stands by her chair. She reaches for the coffee cup that she gave to Taeyeon; it’s remained untouched.

“It’s up to her to wake up.” She takes a sip from the coffee cup. “That’s the hard part.”

This is the only reasonable thing to say between them.

 

 

 

 

 

(Wheein is waiting in the office with her eyes closed. Jessica did not follow her inside. 

“Did you get coffee?” Wheein asks, her voice scrapping away at the silence in the room.

“I forgot,” Taeyeon admits and lies. Before: she stopped in front of a trashcan before she entered the hallway that lead to Jessica’s office. She thought about bringing cold coffee to Wheein, but Wheein hates cold coffee and she really shouldn’t have coffee to begin with. She should sleep. “I can get you something from the vending machine?”

“No,” Wheein says. She rubs her eyes and smiles a little, as if she reads past Taeyeon’s small, stupid lie. “It’s fine.”

The picture of Soojung and Jessica is turned towards the two of them, facing the door as if it were watching everything unfold. Taeyeon turns her head and hands Wheein the coffee cup. She should say something about the surgery being successful.

“We can see her soon,” Wheein adds instead.

Taeyeon remains quiet. Her hand still feels the imprint of the coffee cup.)

 

 

 

 

 

Moonbyul is awake for forty-eight hours by the time Taeyeon comes to see her.

The bag of food she brings with her has a hole in the bottom. The closest place for burgers is a McDonald’s knock off, but she remembers pickles and extra mustard because she’s nervous and hasn’t slept well since everything happened.

“Hey,” she greets quietly, and Moonbyul smiles a little, raising a finger to her mouth and pointing to Wheein, fast asleep on the couch by the window. She then motions to the wheelchair by the door.

Taeyeon nods and it takes a few minutes for her to get the hang of the wheel chair, dragging it to the bed and then helping Moonbyul into it. She’s pale, but otherwise alert and watching her lower herself into the chair, overwhelms Taeyeon with guilt, her hands hovering over as if it’ll protect her from falling.

She waits until Moonbyul scribbles a note to leave on the bed, grabbing the burger from Taeyeon and shoving it into her lap as Taeyeon takes over the control of the chair. They quietly leave the room and Moonbyul immediately unwraps the burger with a heavy sigh, shoving it into her mouth.

“You have _no idea_ ,” she breathes, satisfied. She gets ketchup on the corners of her mouth and Taeyeon chokes back a laugh. “I hate jello. I cannot tell you how much I _really_ hate jello,” Moonbyul tells her, licking her fingers. “I had to fight with Jessica-eonni because all I wanted was _this_.”

Taeyeon snorts. “Never change.”

They’re quiet. Mostly because Taeyeon focuses on navigating the chair to a corner that she saw on her way in, quiet enough for them to talk – or not talk, she tells herself. She doesn’t know how this is supposed to go.

The corner is occupied though and she pulls them into a smaller one, taking the chair close to the window as Moonbyul inhales the rest of the burger, then the pickles, and starts working on the fries. Taeyeon can only stare, then work up a smile when Moonbyul looks up at her.

“I’m fine,” she says, mouth full of food.

“I didn’t say anything.”

“But I am.”

“Sure. Sure, okay.” Taeyeon blinks and rubs her eyes. They open again to see Moonbyul frown. “I know you’re fine.”

“You’re not convinced.”

“Okay,” Taeyeon manages. The hardest part of all of this is erasing the image that she has of Moonbyul now; finding her, outside of their apartment, bleeding out on the sidewalk with one of their neighbors on the phone with the police. She shakes her head, sighing. “I’m glad you’re better.”

“I’m on bed rest for the next month though.” Moonbyul leans back in her chair. “That’s going to make me crazy. It’s going to make everyone around me crazy, actually. Staring at the walls. Wheein told me I should be your bodyguard.”

“Me?” Taeyeon claps her hand over her chest, snorting.

“You,” she replies dryly. She searches Taeyeon’s gaze carefully, swinging the chair forward and closer. “I’m sorry you had to see me like this.” Moonbyul is hesitant, swallowing. “I – I think I’ll be sorry for the rest of my life that you guys had to see me like that. That Wheein did.”

“You always said that you didn’t like to bring work home.”

Taeyeon is awkward; Wheein is unfazed and barks out a laugh.

“I did say that,” she agrees. She rubs her eyes. She winces slightly too and Taeyeon jerks forward, worried. “I’ve been shot before,” she tells Taeyeon, batting her hand away. Her hand goes immediately to her chest, massaging herself lightly. “It wasn’t exactly the best experience of my life.”

Taeyeon snorts. “I can imagine.”

“You know what I mean.” Moonbyul shakes her head. “My point is – I don’t know my point. I’m just sorry, you know? I think this is why I’m dragging my heels on…”

“Wheein?” Taeyeon supplies.

Moonbyul flushes, shrugging. “Yeah. I guess.” She combs a shaky hand through her hair. “I can barely handle seeing my life flash before my eyes alone. The idea of doing that, _this_ to another person, to _her_ –” She pauses, swallowing. Moonbyul’s eyes start to water and she drops her gaze. “My feelings are everywhere. I just don’t know what to say because they’re everywhere and it’s pretty damn terrifying. And I feel stupid and selfish of thinking of them this way.”

“Have you talked to her about it?”

“I just woke up, idiot.” Moonbyul’s voice is dry. Normal, even. They look at each other and she laughs too. “Sorry,” she says again.

It’s never been in the nature of their relationship to be open. There are a lot of looks; unspoken moments that seem more natural than saying anything out loud. But Taeyeon feels herself slide forward, then over Moonbyul, gently wrapping her arms around her shoulders, too careful because of her chest and the bandages that are peeking out from underneath her paper-thin hospital gown.

“Oh so we’re hugging now?” Moonbyul’s voice is muffled against her neck and Taeyeon lets out a watery laugh, sinking her fingers into her hair.

“We’re hugging now.”

“This is weird,” Moonbyul answers and Taeyeon laughs again.

Moonbyul’s hand slides into her hair, tugging her closer. She makes some kind of sound, soft enough to be suspicious and painful. It pulls at Taeyeon’s throat and she hates that she needs this kind of reassurance. She will be the first to admit that she is not the strongest person in the room and that she will always be this selfish, pushing, needing this whatever the moment. It takes awhile for her to pull back and when she sits back into her chair, answering Moonbyul’s smile with her own, she spots Jessica leaning against the wall in the corner.

They share a look. The truth: it is always in the back of her mind that if she had fought harder, been stronger, wanted them _more_ , that she and Jessica might have worked ultimately. They might have even survived to get through this point too. But she didn’t – fight, want to fight, and that is something that continues to live with her, write itself into her songs and every failed relationship she’s had.

“You’re lucky.” She doesn’t recognize her own voice as Jessica smiles a little, turns and starts to walk away. She meets Moonbyul’s gaze, swallowing. 

“Why?” she asks.

Taeyeon forgets the answer. “It doesn’t matter,” she says.

 

 

 

 

 

Wheein returns to the studio when visiting hours are over. Not that she listens. She’s sure that Jessica has her hand in slipping both Wheein and some of Moonbyul’s work colleagues.

The studio is a safe space for the both of them. It rotates who might need it more; this is the problem when you’re so deeply entrenched in music, she thinks. But Wheein comes to join her at the piano, dark circles living under her eyes and clutching onto a sweatshirt that she’s sure isn’t hers. They don’t say anything to each other. Taeyeon plays through the song she’s working on instead, grateful for a temporary escape for the moment. She has to work through the stuff in her head.

“What is going to happen with the concert?”

Taeyeon stops. She leans into the sheet music, scribbling a note. “Postponed. We’ll have a team meeting to decide when it’ll happen,” she answers. When you’re up for it, she doesn’t say either.

“Good.” Wheein nods, rubbing her eyes. She moves her hand to the back of her neck and then pushes it underneath her hair, staring at the music as she braids it back. “Thanks for letting me use your shower.”

“Does Byul know you have her sweatshirt?” she teases.

Wheein sighs. She cracks a smile, her hands moving over the piano. “She laughed. I even told her we started calling her Byul. And that she was going to have to get used to it. Because I like it. And I’ll probably…” Wheein laughs to herself. “It doesn’t matter.”

Between the two of them, Wheein is the better piano player. Her hands are made for the keys: long, narrow, and graceful. She picks up where Taeyeon leaves off, working her notes into the margins of the sheet music.

“Is this about Jessica eonni?”

Taeyeon swallows. “ _No_.” There’s silence. “Yes,” she admits. She shakes her head. “Isn’t it always?”

Wheein has never once judged her. The corners of her mouth turn and she stops playing briefly, adding more notes to the margin. She turns the sheet music back to the beginning and starts to play again. The melody is cleaner. Taeyeon studies the words in front of her, pressing her tongue to the roof of her mouth.

“It must be weird seeing her,” Wheein murmurs.

Taeyeon laughs but the sound is harsh. It’s even harder to swallow. “I don’t even think weird is the right word,” she says. “It’s like I’ve lost all ability to know how to breathe. And it drives me _crazy_ – I was sixteen and the word love was so stupidly terrifying. Then I was eighteen and the whole world was right in front of me and we were both angry and stupid and changing and I _hated_ how she could handle this better than I could and yet, here I am building a career on love and love songs and all that crap and the source of all of my damn feelings is right in front of me and _I don’t know what to do_.”

Wheein stops playing the piano. She watches Taeyeon and Taeyeon is more than aware that she is unraveling right in front of her, glad it’s Wheein and not another studio companion or anyone else she knows.

“Nothing is straight in my head.” Her words come out in a panic. Her hands rise and pull at her hair. “I’ve worked so hard over the years to be controlled, to put all this stupid _stuff_ onto paper instead of out loud and all it takes is seeing her again and then nearly watch my friend _bleed_ to death and… it’s like I’ve stepped back into the real world and am so _scared_ of what it does to the people that I love and how I handle it –”

“There is no right way to do this,” Wheein murmurs.

“You sound like Moonbyul.” Taeyeon’s voice cracks a little.

“That’s what she said too.”

It’s both disheartening and surreal to see her missing a smile, or that edge of mystery and mischief that makes Wheein herself. She looks devastatingly serious and Taeyeon feels like a voyeur, watching her expose herself for the moment.

Wheein shakes her head. “I have cried more than I have cried in all my years of living.” She laughs to herself, closing the piano. “I know I sound like I’m ninety, but it’s true. I can’t see the world the same way. It’s brighter, but it’s scarier. People who love and treasure and want to see and be around for the rest of your life are so easily taken away – I still close my eyes and all I can see is Byul-ah bleeding out, right in front of me and just helplessly watching her die. I told her too.”

“What did she say?” 

“She laughed.” Wheein scoffs and rubs her eyes. “The idiot laughed at me and hugged me and didn’t let go until I started sobbing in her stupid, smelly hospital bed – until I told her that I wanted to set the place on fire and bring her home.”

“Sounds like her,” Taeyeon murmurs.

“Doesn’t it?”

Wheein grabs the sheet music and scribbles onto the front something like _third draft complete_ , tossing it to the side.

“You have to stop holding yourself back,” Wheein murmurs, meeting her gaze. She smiles a little. “That’s the worst part of you. You hold yourself back because you don’t think you deserve to live your life, mistakes and all. You should talk to Jessica – maybe she’ll surprise you. Maybe it won’t fix things. But you don’t need to shroud yourself in mystery. We’re not living in a drama, you know.”

The funny thing is that this isn’t new advice. This is a conversation that they’ve had before, will probably have again, and it’s easy to forget that Wheein knows exactly who adult Taeyeon is.

She still manages to swallow, rubbing her eyes. “I know,” she says. 

She does not say: _you’re right_.

 

 

 

 

 

In the morning, she wakes up to a demo file.

One in her email, one via text.

The attached message is simple. _Life is too short_.

 

 

 

 

 

Coffee is simple.

The café she picks is somewhere near the hospital. She found it the day Moonbyul was released and she helped bring her back into the apartment; her nerves were wild and the café had apple cider donuts and that was all Taeyeon needed. She still doesn’t know how she got Jessica to agree to meet her beyond a simple text – _got your number from byul_ – but picking a place that is close to hospital seemed like an unavoidable happy medium.

She arrives earlier. Her sleeves swallow her hands as she fumbles through ordering for the both of them. Jessica is a classic. Then she panics and texts Moonbyul, ends up getting two Americanos with almond milk. She picks a seat upstairs and by the window, quiet enough so their conversation can belong to them but close enough to the stairs that there’s room for an early exit. She can’t remember the last time she was this nervous – her first song, an award, meeting with a mentor? There is a laundry list of moments, long and short, that she could use but they just end up sounding like excuses to her in her head.

Her watch says _350pm_ and suddenly, time is moving faster.

“Hi.”

Taeyeon blinks. Jessica stands over her, a little breathless. She reaches for the coffee first. She looks strange out of her scrubs; bare face, jeans, and a crisp, white blouse. Her hair is still down, wavy and tucked behind her ear.

“You’re early,” Taeyeon manages.

Jessica smirks, sitting. “So are you,” she points out and then stabs a straw into her coffee, taking the first sip. Her eyes close and she sighs happily. “I even showered,” she tells Taeyeon. “I feel like the last couple days have been one, endless day – so I’ve been ready to get out and have coffee like a normal human being.”

“I can only imagine.”

Taeyeon hasn’t touched her coffee. Instead, she’s just content with watching Jessica. It’s a strange moment; there’s a flash of a younger Jessica, the one that’s lived in her songs and the back of her mind for so long. She’s morphed into this stranger, someone who Taeyeon can’t look from, endlessly fascinated. 

“You know,” she starts, biting her lip. “I went after you that time we were all going to have dinner… I was going to apologize.”

“For what?”

Taeyeon laughs a little. “I don’t know. It made sense at the time. But you were already running across the street, heading towards the hospital.”

“Ah.” Jessica frowns, putting her coffee down. She looks perplexed. “The bus accident!” She snaps her fingers, leaning her chin against her hand. “That was the night of the bus accident,” she repeats. “Sorry, I would have stopped otherwise.”

“You would have?” Taeyeon cannot hide her surprise.

“Sure,” Jessica answers. “I mean, it’s been over ten years since we’ve seen each other. What’s one more awkward conversation between us?”

Taeyeon feels her face burn. “ _Shut up_.” Jessica laughs and she realizes that she’s teasing her too. Taeyeon finally reaches for her drink. “You’re right though,” she says. “I don’t know what I was expecting.”

“Honesty?”

“From you? Always.” Taeyeon sips from her coffee. “I figured that hasn’t changed.”

Jessica looks at her, surprised. Her face is pink and she fans a little at her cheeks. Taeyeon feels confused, even more so when Jessica starts to laugh.

“It’s the _truth_ ,” Taeyeon defends herself.

Jessica shakes her head. “Sometimes,” she says instead, “it’s just the way you say things.”

The wistfulness in her voice unsettles Taeyeon. It’s not what she was expecting. The problem is she’s never really known what to expect. This moment was something that she had long since decided was never going to come, no matter how many times she’d run into Soojung at events, or old classmates, or even seeing her at dinner with Moonbyul and Wheein. This Jessica seems to break every sense of expectation though, ready to pull apart every assumption she was going to try and arm herself with.

“What do you want to know?”

Taeyeon blinks. “What?”

“What do you want to know?” Jessica repeats, studying her. “I’m not married,” she rattles off. “I’m not seeing anyone. I’m married to my job though. I like being a doctor. I’m pretty great at it, or so I’ve been told. I’ve known Moonbyul since she was a baby. I like Wheein – so she gets my approval. I like to leave work at work, but that’s easier said than done… and I guess, sometimes, I sort of regret not going into art?”

“You would have been bored,” Taeyeon agrees, falling into the conversation. “Although, I swear that the only way I survive going to certain events is thinking about how you’d do it and what you’d say.”

Jessica just laughs.

It continues like this. One cup of coffee becomes a second one and a cupcake that they split between them, Taeyeon giving the bigger piece to Jessica when she starts complaining about the last time she’s actually had a meal.

“You’re not angry with me?”

She freezes, her mouth open when she realizes what she’s gone and just said. She feels ridiculous when Jessica stares at her, mystified.

“I mean,” she says quickly. She laughs nervously too, taking a bite of her piece of the cupcake. “I mean,” she repeats, shaking her head. “I don’t know what I mean.”

“I’m not.”

Taeyeon stares at her. Jessica blinks, then shrugs.

“I’m not mad at you,” she clarifies. Her fingers push at the straw from her coffee. “I think I didn’t know how to see you… I knew at some point we were going to run into each other and I think I was more prepared for it to be at more of a public place? Does that make sense?”

Taeyeon nods. 

Jessica’s expression changes into something serious. Taeyeon watches as she looks down, studying some corner of the table.

“We’re not those kids anymore.” Jessica is carefully choosing her words. “I can’t honestly say how I would’ve reacted to seeing you then or how it would be any different than seeing you now.” She laughs a little. “We were two kids saying the same thing, trying to break up with each other the same way for the _same_ reason – and mad that we were at that point, you know? I think too I didn’t know how to handle your first song and that was a moment where I had to force myself to move on some way.”

It wasn’t her best declaration, her first song. Taeyeon winces in memory. There are lines in the song that say things like _this girl is_ and _this girl was_ and anyone close to them knew that it was the worst kept secret that her first song was about Jessica. But Taeyeon doesn’t know how to not talk through her songs. It makes the rest of her life pale in comparison, but navigation is something that she’s never pretended to be good at.

Jessica laughs a little. “It’s funny,” she says after awhile. “But I think there was always a part of me that looked for you in every single one of those relationships I had after you. I think I still do that now too.”

It’s beyond anything Taeyeon knows how to handle. She stares openly at Jessica, her mouth dropping and her breathing slowly leaving her control. It’s part confession, ultimately standing as something entirely different – maybe it feels like love, maybe it isn’t, maybe it’s a goodbye, and maybe it’s just in her head.

“I –”

She leans in, nearly trembling. Her palms press against the table and she almost, almost reaches for Jessica because it seems like the most logical thing to do.

“I’m a mess,” she says. Chokes on a laugh too. “I don’t know left from right, up from down, and work way too much and often forget to come home. I read too much into things still – so have to be patient with me and tell me what that means. Because I think if I start to pick that part I’m going to assume way too much.”

Jessica’s gaze softens.

It transforms her into something untouchable. Taeyeon feels her head start to spin. She watches as Jessica pulls her hand back and leans in, pushing her bangs away from her eyes. She cannot tell what she’s thinking and really, hasn’t exactly been the greatest at it either, even when they were together and basically kids.

“Stop complicating things,” she murmurs.

“Okay.”

Jessica shakes her head. “Don’t oversimplify it either.” Her mouth curls and Taeyeon wants to kiss her. Badly. “I’m not the easiest either. And I don’t know if I’m ready to dig into whatever this needs to be quite yet. I think the reason why it’s so easy to talk to you right now is because it’s just you and me and that’s how it started… so that’s how we should talk about it.”

“I know.” Taeyeon’s throat burns. “I know.”

“I don’t know where you fit in my life.” Jessica smiles softly. “I don’t know what I want that place to be and if I can put you into a place right now.”

Her stomach drops. Her palms are sweaty and she stares and stares at Jessica because everything isn’t coming together. It’s standing as something entirely different and Taeyeon is terrified, wondering if she should assume or not.

Jessica leans in again though, pushing herself over the table and into Taeyeon’s space. She seems to know that Taeyeon is panicking. (Of course, she does.) She hates that she is literally sitting in front of the one person she has never been able to hide from. (She doesn’t.) But her breathing starts to change and Jessica’s fingers brush over her mouth, just as she seems to be debating something.

This is how she kisses her back.

It’s sweeter, when Jessica kisses her, a mess of chocolate and coffee and their breathing mingle as Taeyeon opens her mouth and practically moans when Jessica’s tongue slides in. Jessica kisses her carefully, slowly even as if she were peeling apart each layer that Taeyeon has managed to construct. Her fingers slide around and press over the back of her neck, then push into her hair.

Taeyeon pushes her hand forward, her fingers curling into Jessica’s shirt as she holds her there, however awkward and uncomfortable their positions are. She doesn’t know how long she kisses her; kissing her back seems to change into something more infinite, as easy as it is to breathe, and she feels like she is recommitting Jessica to memory. How she stands. How she feels. How she tastes.

When she breaks away, her eyes are open and Jessica’s are closed.

“I’ll wait,” she hears herself say. “Whatever you need. I’ll wait. I’ll wait until you’re ready. Until you want to come to me. I’ll wait.”

Jessica’s eyes remain closed, but she smiles, brightly and honestly. She laughs a little too, breathless as she reaches for her coffee cup. When her eyes open, they are bright enough for Taeyeon to look away.

“Your words are always the prettiest, Kim Taeyeon.”

Jessica has never been the one to hold back.

 

 

 

 

 

The ramen from the convenience store is on sale. Buy six, pay half price – or something ridiculous enough for Taeyeon to bring eight different flavors home and sneak it into Moonbyul’s room when Wheein steps out for a meeting.

“I’m going to have to start running as soon as the doctor clears me,” Moonbyul says dryly, a mouthful of ramen. She is propped up against the headboard with a mountain of pillows and a remote too. “If you keep bringing me all this delicious crap,” she teases. She hums and swallows another mouthful. “No regrets though.”

Taeyeon rolls her eyes. “I’ll just blame my guilt complex.”

Moonbyul laughs, surprised. “Of course you would.”

They eat in companionable silence – that much hasn’t changed. Not that it would, she thinks. If anything, she’s always valued the lack of judgment that Moonbyul has. They haven’t exactly been the most conventional friends and if anything, there is too much she hasn’t shared with the other woman and vice versa. But these moments, these small ones, have always been important to Taeyeon.

She fumbles into picking a movie, leaning into a chair by Moonbyul’s bed. She knows that Wheein will be back in a few hours, charged and ready to empty out all the unhealthy things their apartment holds. She already has a toothbrush in the bathroom and all her favorite clothes in Moonbyul’s closet, including a gown that she is supposed to wear to an event later in the week. Taeyeon caught her moving it in when Moonbyul was sleeping; there’s just nothing to say.

“Did you know – _ugh_ , spicy,” Moonbyul swallows, putting her ramen down. She reaches for her water. “Did you know that the fundamental basis for our relationship is food, _crappy_ food, rent, alcohol and terrible television?”

“Sounds like a dream,” Taeyeon replies and Moonbyul snorts.

“Are you okay?”

Surprised, Taeyeon looks over at Moonbyul. The television is forgotten and she pulls herself to sit higher on the chair.

“Fine,” she manages.

Moonbyul’s mouth twitches. “Liar,” she says.

Taeyeon blushes. She starts to pick at her ramen, looking down into the bowl resting in her lap. She bites her lip and then swallows.

“It’s funny,” she says after awhile. “It’s funny how much of an adult you realize you’re _not_. It’s funny that I’m still surprised by that. I feel like lately I’m watching things from outside myself.”

“That’s why relationships exist.” Moonbyul shrugs, stealing a bite of ramen from Taeyeon’s bowl. “They tell us the kind of person we really are – it sucks, you know. It exposes you to everything. Especially when you’re going through stuff.”

Taeyeon snorts. Moonbyul is quiet again. She changes the channel to baseball, studying the game when Taeyeon looks up.

“I know what you mean though. I’m terrified,” Moonbyul tells her. She taps her head too. “My feelings for … well, you know. It’s gone beyond manageable and I did the one thing that I didn’t want to do. I never wanted her to see me like _that_.” She’s rambling a little and Taeyeon watches her quietly, swallowing too. “But everything happens for a reason, I guess. And my very small group of people that stick around when things get messy just grew. Which is scary and confusing and makes me want to marry that stupid girl.”

Taeyeon laughs. “She’ll kill you if she hears you.”

“She should,” Moonbyul agrees. “But it’s true. It’s all true, if anything. And she also knows that I suck at lying.”

“I wish I knew how to say those things.”

Taeyeon thinks of Jessica and their coffee date, if one could call it that. She swallows again. Her fingers are in her mouth too and she starts biting at her nails.

“You do,” Moonbyul says dryly. “You get paid to.”

She snorts in reply. “That’s because it’s a more generalized, commercialized version – it’s just… I _know_. Everything’s changed in here.” She taps the side of her head as confirmation. “I feel like I’ve lost my grip on everything.”

“Maybe that’s a good thing?”

“Maybe,” Taeyeon echoes. 

They are more alike than they know, Taeyeon thinks. Then thinks again. She shifts and climbs into bed with Moonbyul, stealing some of the blankets and changing the channel to another movie that they’ll probably falls asleep to.

But even the silence, this comfortable silence that she’s come to depend on in a way that she regrets, has changed and changed into something that is uncomfortably entwined into a heavy, permanent friendship. Taeyeon does not do well with change. The very nature of all the relationships in her life have been shifted too, pulled away from how she’s categorized them into her head.

At some point, she reaches up and touches her mouth and Moonbyul catches her, watching her seriously as she tries and keeps her focus onto the television, onto a movie she hasn’t been watching in the first place.

“I think I’m having growing pains,” Taeyeon confesses and softly, enough for her heart to launch itself into her throat and stay there.

Moonbyul does not answer.

All of this is true.


End file.
